


Kaleidoscope

by Rynn336



Series: Call Me Hopeless, But Not Romantic [9]
Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Angst, Frontotemporal Dementia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 01:43:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7782034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynn336/pseuds/Rynn336
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes endings are just as sad as we deserve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kaleidoscope

_Where did you go?_

_How will you tell yourself you’re losing hope?_

_Losing hope._

Even permanence is temporary.

 

_Remember the day we met?_

_No._

_Ha! Neither do I._

Even the strong can break, because in spite of themselves they are brittle.

 

_How about…?_

_Probably not._

_…Yeah._

No one wants to admit just how close we are to breaking at every moment.

 

_Oh! I’ve got one! What about the first day we ditched together?_

_No._

_Can I tell you about it?_

_Yeah._

 

We want, and we need, and we love, and we hate, and with every moment, we destroy ourselves further.

 

_Okay, well, you came to me and told me that you needed to do your dry-cleaning and if I would help you. Like a complete dunce, I believed you, and I had to go to class but I felt bad saying no so I went with you and we ended up at a beach and you were tearing off your shirt and running into the water in your swimming trunks. I still thought we were there for dry-cleaning – as if you’d ever go to the trouble of getting it done – but when I realized you’d tricked me, I was really angry! But you came up to me and shook your head like a dog and I got all wet, and the next thing I knew I was swimming after you in my boxers. You eventually bought me swimming trunks and we stayed there until we were pruned and gross and then we laid on the sand until it got dark and you kissed me. You were still so happy-go-lucky and I was in love and I knew you were in love with me too._

_I’m not like that anymore._

_No._

_So I’m guessing you’re not in love with me anymore?_

Like dimwits, we are always surprised when we find ourselves shattered in pieces on the floor, even when anyone with any intelligence could’ve seen it coming.

 

_I didn’t say that._

_Then what were you saying?_

_I was saying that I love this version of you just as much, even more!_

Nagito leans heavily against the back wall of a café, rain soaking into his hoodie and hair and jeans. Every muscle screams with the effort of keeping him upright, but he trudges forward, breathing ragged, mind raging into a tempest even he can’t break through.

Talking to himself in Hajime’s voice like this probably means he’s crazy. He doesn’t care. He can feel his heartbeat stuttering, the systems of his body slowly shutting down, and he doesn’t have much time. He’s got to hurry, or he won’t make it.

By now, the hospice has probably realized he’s gone. But he can’t stand the thought of dying in that place, bedridden and pathetic, in a bed he knows countless others have probably died in as well.

He may be a piteous, wretched excuse of a human, of an Ultimate, but that is one thing he can’t allow.

 

_Kaleidoscope._

Hajime gags again, cold sweat dripping into his eyes, anxiety tearing his insides to shreds, and he feels like he’s being pulled inside out. Vomit already fills the toilet bowl and flecks the corners of his mouth, and his eyes widen as another wave surges into his mouth. He retches again, feeling his eyes water.

Fifteen minutes.

 

_Kaleidoscope._

It’s wishful thinking. Nagito stumbles into the water and falls to his knees, feeling the waves lap at his knees and legs. Out of the corner of his eye he swears he can see a happy Hajime and a happy Nagito, older, in their twenties or thirties, their hands intertwined at their sides as they lean into each other, their foreheads millimeters apart. But when he tries to look straight at them, they vanish, only to reappear right where he was just looking.

The wind whips his wispy white hair around his face and he buries his face in his hands, shutting the image out behind his eyelids. “Help me,” he whispers.

The wind picks up as if to spite him.

“Help me.”

 

_Kaleidoscope._

He needs to talk to Nagito.

Hajime fumbles for his phone, swallowing back the taste of bile, and calls.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

“Damn it, pick up.” He’s shocked at how hoarse his voice is, the wheezing syllables just like he’d imagine those of the dying.

But he doesn’t want to think about that.

 

_Kaleidoscope._

Ring. Ring. Ring.

_Hajime,_ says the caller I.D.

There is no one there to answer it.

 

_Kaleidoscope._

Ring. Ring. Ring.

No one answers.

But there is no one there to care.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again, at the end of the series.   
> This was, by far, the hardest chapter to write, technically and emotionally. I hope I did well enough for their ending, but there's definitely a chance that even after several different drafts this still isn't sufficient.   
> If you have any questions, or if I could've done something better or you liked something I did, please let me know in the comments! And thank you so much for supporting my work and reading what I wrote. I'm so grateful to all of you!


End file.
